


At the Time of the Prophecy

by CesarioWriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Hermione Granger, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Author Using KonMari | Marie Kondo Method on Canon, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Hermione Granger Has a Penis, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Song: You Are the Only One (Sergey Lazarev), Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CesarioWriter/pseuds/CesarioWriter
Summary: Hermione Granger is absolutely ready to confront anything and everything in this world, including learning how to navigate an entirely different socioeconomic structure predicated on a bit of physiology she doesn't even know that she'll be affected by yet. What she isn't ready for is what happens in the Department of Mysteries.Much less who it happens with.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 39
Kudos: 383





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beforeyouspeak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/gifts), [drD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drD/gifts), [Lyssandra_Med](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssandra_Med/gifts).



The Second Wizarding War ended, not with a grandiose last stand, but as the slow collapse of an overcooked flan. Whilst things had been progressing tickety boo through the first four years of Hermione Granger's schooling - in as much as could be expected given her reluctant friendships - the Tri Wizard Tournament had wrought more changes in the wizarding world than the mere introduction of an accidental fourth competitor. The closer bonds forged between the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons with the students of Hogwarts introduced them to the stark reality that, in the larger world, the efforts of standing against the Dark Lord did not endear them overmuch to their neighbors. Rather, it put them distinctly out of step with the advances in larger Wizarding culture.

For her part, Fleur Delacour did much to quietly introduce the concept of creature rights - especially so as it was quietly observed that her sharp intelligence was casually dismissed by Certain Persons. The Delacour line was not the only ones so dismissed, allowing students such as Hermione to see in stark reality how easily their entire existences could be redefined. And for what? 

An accident of birth.

Such things rankled in a way that highlighted how lacking the forced viewpoint they were being spoon fed truly was. Hermione was not the only one so affected - many within Hogwarts could not help but to wish to question everything around them, and everything they had been taught. More than once, Hermione had been caught in a conversation about various aspects of creature rights and even the mundanity of Muggle politics in contrast with wizarding politics. The debates betwixt them all had ranged far and wide, and many had expressed appreciation for the input from the Muggleborn and halfblood contingents that were able to provide differing perspectives. Though Durmstrang was notorious for its strict blood based entrance requirements, the students themselves did not treat those they met with overt disdain or otherwise make it clear that they thought themselves better for the accident of their birth. 

Accepting the attentions of Viktor Krum had been a pleasant diversion for Hermione but ultimately had left her fairly uninterested. Hermione had felt bad about that - after all, the young man had been quite attentive and kind to her, unfailingly polite and respectful of her boundaries. Unfortunately for him, the broad, flat planes of his body had done nothing to stoke the fires of her interest, despite his intelligence and kindness. Whilst she knew a dalliance with him would have been pleasant, she sought the true fire to waken within her before she would be willing to descend to such madness. So it was that they parted as friends, as so many had, and maintained their connection over distance.

Exchanging letters betwixt the students had maintained tight friendships and casual acquaintances, allowing the varied students of Hogwarts to form a quiet underground of fresh news brought forth by sources other than the Ministry controlled Daily Prophet and Dumbledore's half truths. Some of the students had been bandying about the idea of compiling the news into a digest, though it had been naught more than quiet murmurs before a sixth year had come forward and began distributing The Owl. Hermione had given a short laugh at the title, spying easily the influence of Muggle news sources, before she'd handed over her sickles for a subscription. It was through an article in the Owl that some of the ideas in the back of her head came to the fore front. 

It had probably been no small coincidence that the Tri Wizard Tournament occurred during Harry Potter's fifteenth year. It was to be expected that he would naturally be caught at sixes and sevens. It felt as though for every major milestone they hit, there was some form of chicanery afoot. It struck her as a strange happenstance that so much occurred along Harry's schedule. He had either the greatest of luck or someone was manipulating events such that all would focus on Harry.

So it did not shock Hermione one iota that such things would come to pass in the months prior to the time when they would be assumed to present. In yet another display of delicious irony, the changes that magics older than time wrought upon the body were such that integration into the Muggle world was impossible for all but a certain few. 

Magic wound its way not just through a witch's wand, but through the entire body. The more powerful a witch or wizard was, the more pronounced the changes upon their body. 

These changes presented most drastically at around the fifth year of magical learning. Were a witch to ignore their learning, or be ineffectual at their lessons, they would never present, retaining the seamless integration with the Muggle world denied to others. For those who were capable and powerful, their powers would fully change their entire selves, marking them as Other, making it clear to the world and their peers that they? They were More. 

Through the centuries, it was settled into two primary classifications, with sex being secondary. Hermione had snorted in abortive laughter at the reading of it. Male and female did little to matter for the truly magical, for the true determination was that of Alpha or Omega. Whomever was designated either was marked as truly, epically powerful, though no real theories had been able to be floated as to why certain folk presented as Alpha and others as Omega. Some of the mores from Muggle tomfoolery did make its way into wizarding culture, in the form of a period of approximately a hundred years where it was expected for Omegas to behave in much the same ways as women were in the Muggle world at the time. It was a marvel to Hermione that this had caught hold at all - the power of Omegas was not to be underestimated. 

Shaking her head, Hermione broke herself free from the chaotic bent of her thoughts. It didn't serve any purpose to dwell upon the facts of life. It would be immutable. Soon, she'd know one way or the other whether or not she was as good as she thought she was. From the reading she'd done, she was certain that it would be painful, and the accidental magic that would accompany her presentation was a significant factor in why she'd immediately accepted the offer from Molly Weasley to summer with them. 

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing the mass back over her shoulder as she turned toward the dark window of the Knight's Bus. It seemed a miracle that her parents had agreed so readily to her summering elsewhere, but it stood to reason. It wasn't like they'd been overly involved in her life the past few years. Some letters exchanged comprised the bulk of their interactions. Hermione mused that it was likely the result of her being magical. Her finger rubbed against the plain silver ring that adorned her left thumb. Maybe...

"Diagon Alley!" The pronouncement from the driver came with a shuddering stop of the Bus, nearly knocking Hermione free of her seat. She gathered her bag and rose, departing the Bus quickly and making her way across the quiet evening street. Making her way into the Leaky Cauldron, the door squeaking beneath her touch, Hermione smiled to see Molly waiting for her. It was a source of gratification to see the woman remember her promise to meet Hermione. The matron was worrying at Ginny's hair, fairly clucking over her. Hermione almost laughed at the long suffering expression on her friend's face. 

It was an odd friendship, but one she cherished nonetheless. Ginny's acerbic tongue was a great relief from the nattering of her brother, and her strategic mind was a breath of fresh air compared to Ron's incessant Quidditch theorizing. Though from the bags and packages borne in the girl's arms, Hermione was reasonably sure that there would be some impromptu matches being held in the coming weeks, so it wasn't likely she'd truly escape Quidditch strategy.

Thankfully, Molly ceased her smothering efforts and greeted Hermione with a warm smile and an encompassing hug as her chattering took a different route. Hermione returned it with a brief smile, shooting a quick glance over at Ginny, who rolled her eyes. Hermione's lip quirked. Good to know that it was safe to ignore the bulk of Molly's prattle. 

A slight smell swirled through the light post-dinner crowd to catch at Hermione's nose. It puzzled her, notable but subtle in a way that prevented her from being able to pinpoint what or where it was. She frowned to herself as she followed Molly and Ginny out of the Cauldron before quickly putting it from her mind. They made their way to Eeylop's Owl Emporium and Molly gave a sharp rap to the door in a staccato succession. The door swung open to admit them quickly. As the door shut, Molly turned to Hermione. 

"Make sure you pronounce this very clearly. We're heading to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Got that? Number 12, Grimmauld Place." Molly's gaze was sharp. 

"Yes, I've got it. Number 12, Grimmauld Place." She wasn't concerned yet. If she didn't receive explanations for where she was being spirited off to, she'd demand them with all the perspicacity that so endeared her to her myriad professors. 

Molly gave a nod and then turned the Floo. Hermione found herself desperately grateful that she wasn't about to need to display just how bad her broom skills were. Or worse yet, having to deal with the upset that Apparition would cause. Her stomach could never decide if she'd arrived yet when she side-along apparated. Perhaps when she was able to learn how to do it herself, that would change. 

As she emerged from the bright green flames and beheld Number 12 Grimmauld Place for the first time, she bit back a gasp. The cavernous, decaying receiving room before her had once been richly appointed and she found herself unaccountably grieved to see rich rich brocade and delicately carved wood left to mouldering. Molly bustled to the door and called over her shoulder for Hermione and Ginny to follow. 

What followed was a whirlwind of introductions and explanations - Hermione lay in bed that night absorbing the information, Ginny in the other bed, already asleep. Apparently, she'd had some further information prior so little had been new, unlike Hermione, who was subject to a near overwhelming data dump.

Dumbledore had created an underground resistance to Voldemort and his efforts, naming his organization the Order of the Phoenix. Many of the members of the Order were in attendance tonight to greet them and welcome them into their protective embrace. As best she could ascertain, the goals of the Order were to undermine any attempt by Voldemort to rise to power. Dumbledore insisted that his plans would ruin the wizarding world, and likely the world itself, if allowed to continue unchallenged. It had been explained that she was to begin some light training, alongside Ron and Harry once they arrived. She was, apparently, the first, as Ron was due to arrive in the following days, and Harry soon thereafter. 

Holding her tongue had been particularly injurious, though necessary. It would not do to expose the vast amount of information that the students of Hogwarts had learned about the larger world from beneath Dumbledore's nose. Some of his statements were particularly false - the Delacour clan had sent a few essays and texts on the state of creature rights throughout the wizarding world, putting paid to Dumbledore's claim that the status quo within magical Britain was truly appropriate for all its inhabitants. She'd spied a brief twitch of the eye from Remus Lupin, when Dumbledore had stated that creature rights were sustainable, and again when he'd stated that Muggleborns were likely to be heavily and thoroughly targeted. 

The latest from Durmstrang had certainly put paid to that idea.

Some of the other members of the Order gave slight reactions to Dumbledore's statements, but none as blatant as Remus. Sirius Black was particularly curious in his reaction, his twitches and jerky movements reminding Hermione of the summer that she'd researched the medical field. It was akin to the behaviour of addicts undergoing withdrawal - involuntary muscular tics, uncontrollable outbursts, oddly disproportionate reactions. She'd idly been curious as to what, precisely, had happened to the man in Azkaban that such a reaction was not even given a second glance by the others. 

Daedalus Diggle was an odd man, quietly taking in everyone in the room and glaring at everyone in turn. Mad Eye Moody was decidedly louder and more brash than his imposter had been. Hermione hoped he had received appropriate counseling after his ordeal.

She had particularly enjoyed the grin she'd received from the pink haired Auror Nymphadora Tonks when she'd been introduced. It had been full of a knowing mischief that Fred and George could not hope to touch. Hermione wasn't certain but it was definitely likely that she'd have to be on her toes lest Tonks blindside her with some form of embarrassment that would be impossible to recover from - especially as Tonks seemed the type to tease her forever.

Hermione's thoughts tumbled over each other in a mad whirl as she sought to make sense of what she'd gleaned and learned outright, worrying each concept and new piece of information until her mind could do no more and she fell into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

After the introductory Order meeting at Grimmauld Place, summer had passed with little enough to notate it beyond lazy days spent reading amongst the tall grass that surrounded the Burrow. It had felt prescient for Hermione to delve back into a childhood comfort and read the works of Lewis Carroll once again, chuckling to herself now and again at the blatant and not at all hidden allusions to the world of magic. The numbers of magical creatures referenced in the tomes were enough to serve as a study guide. Pick up Quidditch games were had in the yard, Ginny handily sneaking wins from beneath her brother's noses, their squabbling halting every time the firm raise of Molly's voice reached them for the call to tea. After tea, indoor activities were to be done, cleaning that hadn't been completed earlier, any spare homeworks or preliminary essays that were required, sending off letter responses. Many of them gathered around the wide kitchen table to complete their works, though as frequently as not, Hermione begged off for some quiet solitude in the room she shared with Ginny. 

It was two weeks prior to returning to Hogwarts when Hermione woke in the middle of the night with a choked gasp, before turning to her side and nearly retching as she coughed. Every constriction of muscle in her abdomen erupted in agony along her veins and she would have cried out from the pain had she not been consumed with restraining the sick that threatened to erupt from her. Dimly, she notated the scramble of creaking floorboards, slammed doors and soon a warm presence settled next to her. A blessedly cool cloth was laid against the back of her neck. She inhaled shallowly, the rich scent of oven warm biscuits and tea seeping into her senses. 

"Shh, it's alright dear, breathe, in and out, that's it, in and out. You've got this. You can handle this. Deep breath." The calm, sleep edged burrs around the normally soothing tones of Molly's voice did much to soothe the ache Hermione felt throughout her body. Much blessing upon the cool cloth against the back of her neck, as Hermione shuddered against the encroaching waves of agony that rippled along her nerve endings. 

Hermione inhaled shallowly, releasing her breath in as controlled of a means as she could. Slowly, she began to feel the pain pass through her, as she continued to concentrate on the feel of the cool cloth and her own breathing. Finally, she spoke, her voice raspier than she had ever heard it. "Thank you. Am I?"

Molly gave a half chuckle and Hermione could hear the proud smile without looking up. "Oh, indeed, my dear. If I'm not mistaken, you're developing into a fine strong Alpha, just like Charlie and Bill."

Hermione couldn't quite identify anything beyond the initial scents she'd absorbed earlier, of biscuits and tea, though now she could tell it was definitely chocolate biscuits and tea with a splash of milk. Soothing and calming in a familial, friendly way, Hermione hummed low in her throat. She knew it had to be Molly, and the blunted, clean soap smell of young child that lingered still must belong to Ginny. Maybe some of the lingering scents she couldn't quite identify belonged to the rest of the family. 

"It'll take until you're fully presented to have your scent emerge, but you should be able to start identifying the rest of the family readily enough." Molly rubbed at her back lightly. "Don't you worry about a thing, dear. How are you feeling?"

Hermione took a deeper inhale, the swirling scents of the house lingering in her nose and identifying the family that had become as close to her as her own. She was fairly certain the cordite scents that twined around each other in her nostrils were the twins. The rest of the scents remained too blunted for her to identify just yet. 

"Little better. Feels like my system is beginning to adjust to the new signals and interpreting them properly instead of just as pain." A shudder of heat lanced through her abdomen and she groaned at the odd sensation, confusion lacing her tone. "Do you have the sleeping draught, by chance?"

Molly's warm, work roughened hand grasped Hermione's gently and she placed a small bottle in it. "Remember, you will sleep a full day with this. I'll set up a ward for you so you're not disturbed. We'll check on you. Rest. We'll see you on the other side of this." 

"Thank you." The few minutes she'd been awake had been enough to exhaust what little reserves Hermione had, and she downed the potion gratefully, gently the placing the bottle back on the bedside table along with the chilled cloth. "See you soon."

Hermione was asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.

The following hours were filled with half shadowed figures, dim scents that barely lingered, and throughout, a rich laugh that mocked and echoed in her mind. None of it was familiar. By the time she woke, Hermione knew without a doubt that whatever lingering scents that made their way to her nose were those of family. A hinting of a new scent whirled through the air, faint but titillating in its newness. Beneath the sun warmed tweed scent that always heralded Arthur's arrival home, a deep woodsy and peaty smokiness hooked itself into Hermione's senses, and she sat up slowly, her lateral abdominal muscles protesting mightily at the movement of her body. She winced as her thighs shifted, pulling against the newly awakened nerve endings that lanced through her. Thankfully, her night clothes had remained on, and she stretched slowly, allowing her senses to adjust to her new reality. 

Quickly changing into fresh clothes and quietly testing her magic with a soft "lumos", Hermione smiled at the settling of her magic along her bones, secure in the knowledge that she may need to practice some to learn her new limits but it would be well within her bounds. Her stomach twinged, the barest hint that she needed to get down to the kitchen forthwith or risk becoming so hungry she'd be left with naught but nausea. Downing the glass of water left at her bedside, she proceeded from the cozy room and made her way toward the murmur of voices. The mid morning sunlight streamed through the various windows, and the dim shouts of raucous enjoyment without made its way through the Burrow. Hermione smiled at the familiar echoes. 

Coming 'round the final corner, she stilled in her tracks, the full scent of a rich and complex scotch partnered with chocolate covered strawberries and the slightest hint of aged parchment reaching up and hooking into her senses with virulence. Rubbing at her nose, Hermione entered the kitchen fully, smiling at Molly. 

"Morning." 

"Hello Hermione dear, two shakes and I'll have your breakfast up. Have you met Andromeda? Little Dorie's mum." Molly gestured to the seated woman at the table, her hands curled around one of Molly's lopsided mugs that bore the distinct finger marks of one of her children. A soft smile curved her full mouth as she raised a hand in greeting. 

"Molly's been filling me in on what I missed in the last Order meeting." Molly gave a half muffled snort at the stove as she made quick work of Hermione's breakfast. "And of course, telling me about you. I hope you didn't have too rough of a time of it." Hermione slid into a seat at the table, her body slumping slightly before Andromeda slid a freshly poured mug of tea over to her. 

"No, I slept through most of it, thankfully." Hermione blew across the top of her mug before taking a slow sip, closing her eyes at the delightful combination of flavor and heat that filled her chest with the feeling of home. "Its definitely interesting to recognize everyone in a new way. Everyone smells like family."

Andromeda's smile widened into a grin and she leaned forward onto her elbows. "Really? That's fantastic to hear, it definitely sounds like you're surrounded by the right sort."

Hermione set her mug down and inhaled with a wide yawn. She blinked, the scent and flavor of the air taking a moment to categorize itself in her mind. Andromeda's scent, that decadent late night quiet of having a final treat with a nightcap whilst finishing a letter, that scent categorized itself the same as Molly's own comforting and maternal chocolate digestives, strong tea, and the fresh scent of sun warmed laundry.

Peering curiously at Andromeda, Hermione's head tilted to the side. "Excuse me, ma'am, if this is impertinent, but are you related to the Weasleys or the Potters? Its just, you smell of family as well."

Andromeda's eyebrow raised at that and she looked over to Molly, who was sliding a full English before Hermione on an overflowing plate. 

"Eat up, dear." Molly gave a vague gesture to Andromeda, who laughed lightly, a sound that edged on hearty enjoyment. 

"To answer your question, Hermione - may I call you Hermione?" At the given nod, Andromeda continued. "Many of the pureblood families have ties. Some closer than others." Andromeda's thumb rubbed over one of the curves of her mug. "Originally, I was born to the House of Black."

Hermione swallowed a mouthful of beans. "Like Sirius?"

"Just like dear cousin Sirius. The mangy mongrel." Andromeda ineffectually hid her grin in her mug. "Our fathers were brothers. We grew up together." 

Molly snorted her laughter, bustling to the table with her own freshly poured mug of tea. "Raised hell together, more like."

"Not my fault Slughorn liked to leave his potions cabinet open constantly."

"It was locked!"

"The day I believe that was a lock is the day I believe your twins are choir boys."

Hermione nearly choked on the bite of bacon she'd taken. Such was midmorning tea at the Burrow, which Hermione joined more frequently in the last days before returning to Hogwarts. Andromeda showed more than a few times, and Hermione greatly enjoyed the time getting to know the unassuming Alpha with the easy grin. The feel of family strengthened the more time they spent together, which Hermione figured stood to reason if their initial familial bond was weaker through Sirius and Harry. Unlike the strongly maternal feel of Molly's scent, Andromeda's felt more risque, indulgent, almost akin to the strong sibling bonds she had with the various Weasleys. She didn't spend overmuch time dwelling on it, however, given the brief time before she was thrust headlong back into the daily intrigues of life at Hogwarts. 

Stepping onto Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross had previously been a riotous cacophony of noise and bodies. This year, Hermione struggled with the added dimension of smells, _everywhere_. Snagging her friends, they made their way onto the Hogwarts Express and their compartments. Booting the boys off to be corrupted by the twins, Hermione grabbed Ginny and Luna, sliding into an empty compartment and collapsing on the seat. Both Luna and Ginny retained the clean, sharp scent of soap and innocence, and she found herself grateful for it. Too many conflicting scents and confusions swirled around her and she ached for some form of steadiness and normalcy.


End file.
